Schnockered Shenanigans
by ThisIsJayKay
Summary: Sirius decides to drown James's Evans-induced woes in Firewhiskey. In what is termed their stupidest act yet, the rest of the Marauders blindly agree and follow suit. Marauder drunkenness ensues.


"What is _wrong_ with her?" James exclaimed furiously, flinging open the door to the Gryffindor seventh-year boys' dormitory and bursting in with all the power of a mighty thunderstorm. Sirius looked up, a bored expression playing on his face, while Remus sighed and continued getting harshly defeated at wizard's chess by Peter.

"What did Evans do _now_?" Peter said, asking the question that was crossing everyone's mind.

James plopped down heavily on his bed and lay on his back, his hands crossed under his head. He glared at the ceiling. "What, you expect her to have done something different? She only just rejected me again with those smart-arse comments that she stores in her arsenal just to unleash on me because I'm the only one who has the patience and presence of mind to love her."

Remus thought it would be unwise of him to remind James that unless having the suitable presence of mind needed to deal with Lily Evans included being ready with arrogant remarks, smirks and habits that annoyed the girl, he didn't think James had it in him to stick with her. But love was love, and if James thought he was up for it, his friends had no choice but to let him be.

"If I've told you once I've told you a thousand times," Sirius began, with the air of a weary soldier who wants nothing more to do than leave the battle and curl up at home with a good book, "you're a downright fool to fall for Evans."

"I know," James responded in irritation. "But I can't help it, and that's why it's so infuriating, and the worst is that I repulse her like some dirty worm she might squish with her shoe at any given moment."

Used to James's self-piteous, amorous, annoyance-fuelled rants, Remus and Peter carried on with their game while Sirius, who was used to his best mate's foibles but didn't have the common sense to let anything pass - not even a solitary duck - without voicing his opinion on it, spoke up.

"Try getting over her."

James snorted, unable to believe how dense his friend could get. "You think I wouldn't have tried getting over her sooner if I knew I could? Don't be stupid, Padfoot. You know I can't."

"So what did she do this time?" Peter piped up, sounding interested. "Usually you sit and talk to your pillow about how beautiful Evans's hair looks or whatever the hell you can say to a heap of stuffed cotton without sounding mental. But this time you're so -" he waved his hands, trying in vain to demonstrate his views "- well, so much _angrier_."

"That's because I've had it up till here with her snarky refusals. I go out of my way to ask her out in a special way and all she does is -"

"Mate, maybe you're trying too hard," Remus put in gently. "Maybe you need to let go of yourself a bit -"

"Not you as well, Moony," James cut in roughly. He paused. A few minutes rolled by in silence before he spoke again, a little quieter this time. "Sorry."

Remus waved it away airily. "You know what, Prongs? I think you need something to get your mind off Evans."

"Like what?" James intoned dully.

Before Remus could answer, Sirius grinned. "Let's see ..." He pretended to think. "A touch of the drink would be just the thing now, eh?"

Of course, if they all had known it was going to be more than just a _touch_ of the drink, they wouldn't have assented so readily because all of them had experienced horrible hangovers in the past. But the Marauders would be the Marauders, and maybe that was what set them apart from everyone else. They went ahead for it, anyway, even if it meant risking the possibility of waking up the next morning complaining of quivery stomachs and loose bowels.

* * *

"I _am_ sober," Sirius insisted an hour and a half and a sneaky, impromptu Hogsmeade visit later, waving an empty bottle of Firewhiskey around wildly and promptly smashing it against the headboard of James's bed. Pieces of glass fell on the bed, but none of the Marauders seemed to notice in their highly inebriated state. "I'm as sober as -" Sirius thought for a moment and tossed them all a sloshed grin "- Evans on the loo."

James seemed to struggle with his words. "You ... you ..." He hiccuped. "You've seen Evans on the loo?"

"Nah, that's your merritory, tate," Sirius replied cheerily, opening a new bottle of Firewhiskey and pouring it into his mouth; most of it ran down his shirt, but he didn't pay any attention to that fact.

"Oh." It seemed to take James an age to comprehend Sirius's answer. "Well, you're invited to the wedding," he asserted languidly, as if this was not a universally established, globally accepted fact.

Sirius seemed to share that sentiment. "'Course I am. I'm mest ban."

"You _will_ be," Remus corrected drunkenly, poking Sirius in the stomach. "You aren't _yet_."

"Put shup ..." Sirius blinked slowly. "Ar ... shut up ..."

"Where's my banana?" Peter shouted from behind the hangings of Remus's bed. Unnoticed by the other three, he'd passed out after downing three Firewhiskeys. Apparently James didn't want him to miss out on all the schnockered talk, for he went over and started shaking his friend.

"_Wormtail_," he whined, drawing out the _tail_. "Wormy ... wakey wakey."

"Grow some balls, Prongs," Sirius piped up, twirling his wand in a vague direction and unknowingly setting fire to Remus's pants. "Men don't say that ... you're being a - a pansy."

The next five minutes were spent extinguishing the flames licking at Remus and in waking Peter up.

"What'll the card say, though?" Remus mused, gulping down a bottle of Firewhiskey as if it was air.

"The what?" James said stupidly.

"The wedding invitation card, you dolt." Remus burped. "_You are cordially invited to the_ -" he yawned "- _wedding shedding of Transfiguration and Charms._ Geddit, Prongs? You're good at Trans-" he yawned again "- Transhfiguration and Lily's - Lily's good at Charmsch."

"Oh," James said simply, seemingly incapable of beginning any of his sentences with something other than that multi-purpose word. "Yeah, that makes sense. It does. A lot of sense," he repeated, as if the drunkards surrounding him hadn't grasped the depth of how much perfect sense Remus's notion made. "Right, Pad -" he hiccuped "- Padfoot?"_  
_

Sirius nodded so fast his head was in danger of falling off. James giggled and indulged in another hearty swig of Firewhiskey.

"Speaking of Evans," Sirius said, "when're you going to kiss her?"

James screwed up his face, apparently in deep thought. "I don't know. Have I never actually kissed her before?" he muttered.

"Do it now." Sirius grinned, getting up and dropping himself onto his bed. "Go on, 'fore you lose whatever guts reside in your - your stummy."

James looked slowly at Remus, feeling dizzy, partly because of the alcohol in his system and the thoughts he was entertaining in his mind that involved a moaning Evans.

"I reckon you should do it, Prongs," Remus said, patting James heavily on the back (he coughed and spluttered). He would be horrified to know he'd agreed to this when the after-effects of the drink left him, but right now he was all for James going and bringing everything to a climax by snogging Lily Evans. Stumbling to his feet, he flopped on his bed. Peter did the same, retiring to the haven of his four-poster.

James was left staring at his muddled best friends, a grin making its slow and painful way to his face. "Yeah, that's not a bad idea at all."

Of course it's not, James, unless you count the fact that Lily Evans was one spell short of murdering you on the spot right there and then when she'd regained her senses after you crashed your lips against hers and invited her to her own wedding.


End file.
